Sweaty.....Palms

Hyperhidrosis

For years I had it. Schweaty you name its - Everything always sweaty. I have always run hot and a/c is my best friend as well as any cold body of water. Roommates have called me a polar bear since I freeze 'em out due to my always being hot. The heater doesn't go on until late December and goes off in February. My last three cars had the heaters disconnected and I never noticed. The Saab has a heater but I don't know how to use it. One girl I went to San Diego with froze over the large mountain pass when I had the top down. She kept begging for the top to go up and I refused. Its a convertible, why does the top need to go up?

From about age thirteen to age twenty-six I suffered from the condition. I've learned how to make sure I do not go sockless and my feet never smell. Haven't ever, actually. Never really been smelly but the "wet" look was always "in" for me. And now I'm in Phoenix. During summer tendency is to wear wick shirts. Winter is anything, really. I just figure, dry heat, it will dry. Humidity - good luck.

I can wear jackets and it is covered up. As far as sweaty pits.......

Party Like a (Catholic-girl) Rockstar

Tell you what. I had sweaty pits. Sometimes it would be so embarassing that I would change shirts two to three times per day. A semi-cover-up would be to wear darker colored shirts. Didn't really work, though. I knew they were there and if someone were checking things out, they knew they were there. Also, the sweat would just be there. Didn't matter if I was sitting around or running around. If I were nervous, calm, comfortable, stressed, relaxed - didn't matter.

When I worked in restaurants by the end of a shift sometimes there was extreme chafing and I would be all red and sore under the arms. If I walked the Vegas strip for hours, same thing. I was lucky that it wasn't smelly B.O. but, still, it was terrible. No complexes or anything, just dislike for the situation. Shoot, it could have been something way worse, you know?

I tried every anti-perspirant out there. Mitchum a-p worked best and I stuck with that. Mitchum stinks, by the way, like your grandpa's aftershave which is old school spicy something or other. They may have come out with some cool scents by now, I don't know. I tried these other things which shocked the crap out of you. They are these pad things where you moisten some conductors and stick them over these battery operated deals which you place in your pits. You turn them on and the feeling is so.....invigorating. I think they are made to scare you straight into having dry come right out of you. I think you can use them on your feet and hands as well. I only had the sweaty pits. The shockers sort of worked, but were a real pain to use daily. They were a bit expensive also.

Those are about the only things I ever attempted - switching around on anti-perspirants and the "shockers". A lot of little kids have trouble with sweaty feet. If their shoes stink and you can't seem to figure out why, its probably sweaty feet. The goofa-scientific term for it is "hyperhidrosis". I say goofa because hyperhidrosis means nothing except increased moisture in any good old area. Its just a diagnosis like arthritis which is completely non-specific. It identifies no source and offers any good-old-boy solution to a problem. Throw the paint around and see what sticks kind of word.

Well. So I walked around with this hyperhidrosis thing through my adolescence and into my graduate studies career. Probably close to fifteen years of carrying this burden around. I finally got fed up with it. One day I ended up with a bunch of free time after running clinicals in 1996, maybe 1997. I got to thinking about this hyperhidrosis on a particularly humid day in Kansas City and decided to give some meds a try. There had to be something the MDs had right?

I stopped in a local office which accepted me as a walk-in and got this fiftiesh little snot of a lady who told me to just choose different shirts so the sweat would not show as much. I told her that wasn't good enough. She begrudgingly left the clinical room and came back with a book ten minutes later. Obviously she had not encountered this prior. She read to me out of the book and told me I had what's called...........hyperhidrosis - - NO KIDDING (WOW, genius)! But....she did offer solution. Cool, what I want finally. The med prescribed was this roll-on bottle called Drysol. Roll it on underarm and it stings like a little needle poking you all over the place for a while and it only costs about $7 per bottle. Great price and small sacrifice for no more....sweaty pits. Party like a rockstar!

I was stoked. It completely eradicated problem within four days and then I maintained it about once every four to five days. But my problem was still there. Hmmmm. The drug either clogged me and stopped the sweat or had to be doing something like putting heavy metals in or something. So this got me to thinking. I checked the ingredients of Drysol and there were massive amounts of aluminum - can't be good, right? I checked anti-perspirants and there are certain metals in those as well. If I remember, the a-p's have mostly forms of zinc. I think. Anti-perspirants are all I had used for years. So I kind of thought, that, what if I took out the products with the metals and simply went with regular ol' deodorant? Can't hurt. If they fail, I already have the heavy metal Drysol on my side (or underarm, I guess).

I went to only deodorant. Wanna know what happened? No more sweaty pits. No more Drysol needed. The word "anti-perspirant" was a lie. I was intoxicating my system and it had been fighting back what is supposed to be a natural release valve in the system for heat release. I was and am now able to wear any color shirt I want.

You want to know something else? Its kind of difficult sometimes to find simply deodorant. 80 to 90% of any underarm shelf is anti-perspirant. You really have to search for deodorant-only product. This must mean that 80 to 90% of the population is applying toxic metal product to their pits. And they probably do not even realize it. Think about it. Many people are going to great lengths to get mercury out of their teeth because of old fillings, but then are applying all sorts of similar stuff to the porous underside of their arms. Think this metal may go systemic? You bet it does. I've never looked too closely into chelation therapy, but I wonder if they give any advise on underarm deodorant? I don't know. If I run into a naturopath who does chelation therapy, I might ask. Did you know that we are all running around with cancer cells? We are all one chromosomal mutation away from expression of oncogenes. Its fact. Oncogene expression is probably mostly regulated by hormonal action and this is why you find preponderance of cancers with sex organs - prostate, ovarian, breast. I think the chromosome is #69 or somewhere thereabouts.

The more polluted any given system is, I surmise the greater the risk of a cancer expression to occur. Let's say we are tipping a boat. There is good and bad in the boat. Okay, we eat the occasional vegetable and fruit. But here we go: Let's see, I have years of smoking in me, years of metals in the form of teflon coating, tooth fillings, anti-perspirants, diet sodas (how does something taste good and have zero calories- chemicals), pollutants in the environment, birth control pills, hormone replacement therapy, and I live under a bunch of power plant wires coming out from the base next to my house. Occasionally I exercise but sit in front of two monitors ten hours per day before watching three hours of television in front of the LCD while my food is microwaving and I am talking on the phone while playing with my IPOD after the trip to Wal-Mart with a bunch of LCDs screaming at me about the latest anti-perspirant and I even got to pump gas while watching the screen in front of me telling about the latest Diet Coke I can purchase in the convenience store. Lunch time was fabulous at my favorite, McDonald's and I'm looking forward to Jack tomorrow. And Friday is pizza day - but its healthy pizza with spinach on it. So that's okay. I tell you what, do you suppose that with all this stuff that we may just be pushing a certain envelope which has the words mutation of oncogene all over it? It only takes one little lead ball to tip that boat. I can't say if that one little ball is anti-perspirant, but, if one can do without, then that part of the matter is taken care of.

Just a thought, anyway. I do know that I conquered hyperhidrosis and it was kind of by mistake - mistake with some thought put into it. Well, anyway, this is just one more goofy thing that I've gone through and its off my to-do list.

Thank you. Take care and God bless.

Dr Moller

JP/Josiah, Pit Bull, Flesh-Eating Wonders

Geez, So It Goes

(One time I was yelled at by my dad for saying geez - It's too close to Jesus)

This is my son, Josiah (JP). He is a long-hair soon to be Larry Norman and a fun, introspective kid. His mom recently had a bike race in Prescott, AZ. That's about a two and 1/2 drive from my place in Chandler. For about the first time in three years, Josiah invited me to visit with him over the weekend last and that was way cool. Last I saw him was the Monday after Thanksgiving in 2005. About 3 1/2 years. I got to visit on Friday and had to leave for patient visits on Saturday. I should have stayed in Prescott, but planned on making the drive back late Saturday to stay over through Sunday and visit some more. We got to touch base, anyway, on Friday - played frisbee, ate and kicked back.

Pit Bulls look cool, but you see that chain? There's a reason for the size of the thing.

On Friday late night after Prescott, I went over to check on my friend, Chuck and relax at his place (Chuck's whole family is the coolest). I stayed over there and Saturday morning helped him with some stuff to take to his other house. They have side-by-side houses. Their Pit is chained to the tree near to the second house (a big chain like the picture). So I was helping Chuck, he was to my right and Cindy (wife) was a little behind and left. So we were moving to the other house and out of nowhere the pit went and launched into my right leg just below my calf. I didn't feel anything except I saw the dog chewing on the leg. Cindy went into action and I think scared Prince (pit's name) off my leg. I went and hit something with my head trying to get away and we rushed into the house.
Cindy ripped off my shoe in the kitchen area and there was blood gushing everywhere. It was crazy. Chuck wanted to duct tape my flesh together and we agreed on wrapping everything up in a paper towel and then duct taping then agreed on hospital. Cindy threw out my totally bloody sock. I started to get that white pale, I don't know where I am feeling and don't remember much after that excepting I was glad I didn't let Chuck put that tape directly over the wounds.
After everything, I was out of commission for two straight days. I remember eating a burrito and spilling cheese all over myself on Saturday night. We never called Elsie and Cindy and Chuck took care of me with a hobbling right leg after the different trips and stuff. They took me home on Sunday late and Elsie was all frustrated. She later took care of all the bandages and then did the house cleaning. Then when all my meds wore off the leg started to really really really hurt. So it goes.
I still think Prince is a good dog. I feel kind of bad about bleeding on Cindy's carpet and tile. I hope she's not mad at me. Lo siento.
I had planned to make it back on that drive to Prescott, see some patients, and it was all botched. Kabosh. A Wash. Not-a-This-Time. I figure either I should have stayed in Prescott or I was saved from a massive pile-up on the drive. Either/Or. I do know I lost a lot of blood in the process, received this gaping flesh wound, and missed out on extended visit with JP.
I called Josiah on Monday and got yelled at by his mom and she requested a picture of my bandaged wounds. I understand that, I guess. I don't know if she understands the trauma when I think of my side (if there be sides). We had a pretty fair time on Friday. Also Prescott is a pretty cool place although a bit of a drive.
Six days later I'm still trying to navigate stairs and not walk like a gimp. Its worse after I haven't been up and walking for a while. And its a pain changing the bandages.
Oh, another thing crazy. On Friday my phone display stopped working and does anyone remember phone numbers anymore? Then later the power went out. Had to trade the numbers and go to the other phone. I sure hope my better successes are right around the corner. Either that or maybe I'll start teaching or something.
Life's an adventure. Ups and Downs and All-Arounds. If I didn't know how to laugh, don't know what I'd do. One thing is now checked on my to-do list - Pit Bull attack - I don't advise it, just so you know. I can be your proxy/stand-in if its on your to-do.

http://www.fnchiropractic.com/

Dr Moller Constants

At any given moment, these things may change.

Its funny because there is nothing new under the sun and I think this also makes us creatures of habit.

Like in the pic here I am doing my scott-watchee-movie or Suns game thing in one of the rooms. I doubt that this will ever change.

http://www.fnchiropractic.com/

http://www.85224chiro.com/

http://www.bionicdoc.com/

Here's the Dr Scott list:

snickerdoodle cookies

land 'o lakes butter

chips ahoy

spree

orange juice

snowboard

weightlifting

big screen

movies played max volume with bass

crier when happy

sleeper when sad

know bible, can't quote verse

love good church, sometimes don't go

christian, sometimes don't act like it

smiley

don't likey talky to large group

movies

fox news

coffee

root beer

tequila

protein

math

philosophical rant

statements with bad timing

creative under duress

matter-of-fact

calvin klein underwear

savane pants

express shirts

liz shirts

ralph shorts

new balance socks

calvin socks

asics running shoes

edmonds,haan dress shoes

black shoes/belts

automatic watch

nioxin shampoo

99 cent store

big lots

home depot

cars cash

no land lines

ocean

mountains

dry heat

food served

bed made

closet organized

hotel, not family

entrepreneurial

carbs

non-fiction reader

minor in fiction

novelist on email

sister is the best

love patients

sometimes nose-picker

a little bit of metro

thinker

mostly mellow

can be life of party

people watcher

girl watcher

native eyewear

listening ear

advice when asked

criticism encouraged

perfectionist at times

agree to disagree

sometimes wish you were here

sometimes wish you would leave me alone

like too much of a good thing

spa

sauna

jacuzzi

pool

massage

chiropractic

computer

research

stress easy but don't show it

hard to read

can't fake it

don't want to fake it

anti-religious

forgiving

no need to be around ones not good for me

problem solver

sweat outcomes

positive and realistic

calculating

opportunity and not problem

chemistry

good food

i can cook, seldom do

patient

giving to a fault

think others want the best same as i do

few friends

more acquaintances

xbox 360

nintendo ds

blackjack

pai gow

baccarat

stick to principle even to detriment

traveler

patios

no bugs

no snakes

alligators okay :)

keep refrigerator organized

can't see it, won't use it

olfaction

decisive when needed

perform well on own with a plan

kids okay, don't need any more

i prefer answer when asked specific question

keep things simple

cap'n crunch

eggs

multiple music genres

ice not heat

arizona basketball, hockey, football

fixer of mechanical things

klipsch

bose

convertible

a/c not heat

ocean sounds, stream sounds okay

dogs

cats can all die

pigeons can die too

rest easy

work more with mind versus physical

The list goes on and on. This is a smattering. Is that a word? Think so. I am willing to bet that my list fits a lot of other's lists. This one is not so different from friends sitting across from me at the dinner table.

God Bless and thank you.

Scott

1000 Thread Count? Don't Need No Stinkin' Shoes

You Will Forever Thank Me
(if you take action)

The past week or month or so was pretty cool. I started a new church and found many things which were missing. After two months in limbo at a temporary room, I finally moved into my great house. My son, Josiah, contacted me after not hearing from him since the Monday after Thanksgiving, 2005. He's a long hair now just the way I'd envisioned him since he was born - like a Larry Norman. Larry Norman, look him up. he's dead now but left quite an impact around the world. His biggest ever was the song, "I Wish We'd All Been Ready". But, anyway, my son Josiah (JP) I named after the good king for a reason.

My sister, Jeanine, contacted me and also sent one of the best CDs I've ever heard produced by her husband. Its not only one of his best, but one of the best CDs now in my collection - period. Jeanine plays on it with Shane alongwith some other types. And the music totally screams. Best ever - its called Luther-N and I forget the title. Oh, just looked it up - Dogmatics. I can't stop playing it and it has around 8-9 solid tracks out of 11. Totally jams and I can tell that Shane really let go and also I can imagine my sister's playing and her role in the making of the music. Good stuff. Chicks playing music can be soooooo sexy.

Link to Luther-N and their CD, Dogmatics. Its on MySpace, Facebook and others:

http://www.myspace.com/luthernband

http://cdbaby.com/cd/luthern http://www.facebook.com/pages/Luther-N/30792859920

First link on myspace is coolest since it opens with the music. Totally....I don't know what to say. It is good stuff.

http://www.fnchiropractic.com/

http://www.bionicdoc.com/

Yes, I'm still onto the bionic band. When I've taken it off I don't function as well as with it. Also the great and sometimes disturbingly vivid dreams stop. Need to get a few more bands again and will do that this week. I just don't really market it as it is so time consuming.

Okay.
If you've ever given thought to your living circumstances, then maybe you don't need this sermon. I have found that most do not give parts of their living much thought. Like say for instance I have this very large monitor and I kept switching back and forth from business computer (slooowww) to my laptop (faaassstt) at work. I got to thinking - why not just get a DIP switch and wireless keyboard/mouse with USB so I only have to use one setup for both PCs. So I did. You know what? My eyes and patience are now saved. Got everything on ebay for next to nothing. Paid 1/5 retail store price. Once again, ebay my hero.

You see the pic above of the sheets? They are 1000 thread count. Do you have any idea what these kind of sheets feel like when you go to bed? OMG! I look forward to hopping in the sack every night and every night I go through oohs and ahhhs. I am not kidding. And here is the thing I realized years ago: We mostly are up 16 hours of the day and are in the bedroom the next 9 hours. Okay, just kidding, 10, I mean 8 hours of the day.

Its funny because a many of us populace out there will spend proliferate dollars on the rest of the house and neglect the bedroom. I had one roommate who had this $25,000 setup in his living room and his bed was on the floor and his sheets mostly made up of clean laundry and a cheap bed-in-a-bag throw. Go figure. Do the math. 8 hours a day is one-third of your lifetime - except when you are in med school or are a lawyer or are Donald Trump. The Don reportedly sleeps about four hours per night. He still probably has only the best anyway. So on average we are in the bedroom 1/3 of our lives. Why would you ever even conceive of slacking on that department? That is the first department to invest in, in my opinion.

If you have not experienced the luxury of great bedroom accommodations, you are missing out. You are missing out on feeling great when you draw down and you are missing out when you wake after the best sleep ever. We have enough stress all around us just in everyday living. Why add to it in the home especially during the most important part of reloading your batteries?

There is a combination, though. A good foundation is required. This is the bed itself. Has to be a good one which is comfortable to your tastes and your back. The most important part of the bed is the supporter which is the boxspring. The Box is one thing you cannot go cheap on. Then the sheets - 1000 thread count. Comforter has to be down with max fill and at least 600 thread count cover. I prefer no duvet as I have never found one I didn't fight with to get my comforter straight. I have a light down for summer and an overfill for the other eight months which is all fluffy and stuff. That is really all there is to the bed. It is quite simple. No bed-in-a-bag, though. Pillows, I just go light and fluffy for a few, memory foam for one and then cervical pillows for two others. Mix and match the pillows for comfort and cervical pillow for neck support as the primary pillow. When this formula is followed you feel like a little kid waking up and are so grateful for giving yourself abundance.

1000 thread count and down comforter and totally great bed? You've got to be crazy; you know how much that would cost? Okay, Okay. The cost does not have to be all that much. Its an investment and on every budget, where there's a will, there's a way. When I was thinking of this stuff years ago, I had nothing to really go on monetarily to get my thoughts into action on this subject. I researched and found Denver Mattress through my buddy, JP Ferraro. Great bed and no middleman. Found what I wanted and then requested scratch and dent and mentioned that I could refer others. Got 25% off an already great value. Another way to push your value on a buy is to offer cash and request cash discount. This takes a few cojones but works. You know how many bed dealers there are out there competing for your earnings? The comforter: Tuesday Morning. I don't like ebay for the comforter. You really have to touch and squish the thing and put it against your face and stuff. Tuesday Morning is everywhere and has tremendous buys. The sheets: ebay. Always look at the seller's ratings, read some reviews and read the ad to get a "feel" for repute.

My current bed system cost only $630. And its killer and probably better and more luxurious than well over 90% of them out there. Even those purchased for over $2500. I know because I've slept on some of those over-priced wonders. Only thing which has come close to my setup is the Westin's. They are close, but something is just a shy miss. I think its their bed itself since they have a one size fits all deal.

Next subject and this is a little shorter - maybe - but its been on my mind. I think next blog I write is solely on working out. This next deal is on shoes..........

What you see in the pic is a pair of Allen Edmonds. I've actually tried on this style shown (in black, of course) but just didn't like 'em. They just made me feel kind of funky. But thats not the main point of this subject. There are $30 to $60 pair out there at Famous or whatever (I mean the cheapies, not Edmonds). I would go through these cheapies about every four to five months and then return to spend another $45 on average every four to five months. On average that is $120 to $150 per year. The four to five months was because of wear and tear and breakdown. I started thinking about this around seven or so years ago. On one hand, its fun to buy new shoes. On the other hand, it's not fun to spend money out of pocket. At around $300 every two years, you have only one pair of shoes. What if you did this with a rotation of three different styles? That's $900 per two years. That's around 700 cheeseburgers you could have had for lunchtime or two weeks of bar-time. (Just kidding). Its season tickets to Arena ball or CHL hockey. Its two gym memberships. Almost 1/4 of a yearly IRA investment. You get the picture.

I checked into it. Companies like A. Edmonds, Cole Haan and others are life-time shoes. They cost. To the tune of $200 and you-name-it. The pair shown is $300 retail. Go to Nordstroms and check it out. I'm not kidding. Over time, though, the cost outweighs the re-buys of the cheapies. The shoes begin paying for themselves after about 1 1/2 to 2 years.

So I ran the guys and ladies over at Nordstroms and Macy's over a number of days and discovered that I like Allen Edmonds for classics and Cole Haan for a little less classic, but sporty. My next step was specific styles. For this I went directly to the websites and then tried the shoes on at Edmonds and Haan. I'm fortunate that they have retailers here in PHX. I ran those guys. I found my best size for each and chose my favorite style(s) - told them I'd be back later or send my assistant (sure). Okay, I fibbed a little, but given that they served me for an hour and their belts even cost +$100, I wasn't buying and I felt guilty. Oh, by the way, when I was in Tulsa, I initially started this process in Dallas.

So, anyway, I went to ebay. Tracked the things until my styles popped up at prices I adored. After probably a total of three months tracking in intermittent spurts, I now own three Haan and two Edmonds. The cost was from $60 to $90 pair of my specific styles and respective sizes. On average thats $75 per pair for what retails at average $225 per pair. One of my Cole Haan's is ready for resole at cost of $55 and they lasted six to seven years without repair. Pretty darn good if you ask me. You do have to buy classic to semi-classic to get by with this. Don't do the trend thing. Those look atrocious after four months anyway. Another thing is that you only buy new. Shoes have to be new for proper breaking in and proper support for only your unique foot.

I do ebay. There are options. Here, there is a place called Nordstrom Rack where good buys are to be had. In Kansas City I know of a place called Bob Jones. Only problem is that its a crap-shoot and you have to fight with old blue-hairs since they know what they are looking at. Then all around you there are the screaming kids and annoying moms giving in to the kids and you feel like slapping them up side their heads for being such push-overs to their bratty kids no one seems to know how to control any longer. Just sort of kidding there.

Thats the shoe buy lesson. Take it or leave it. Just do the math and make a decision. Some are just satisfied with ruining their feet in mediocrity and that is fine. I could go with just one pair, but then I would get bored. That is me and may not be you. If you are just a Sunday nice shoe person, go with one. If you are only Christmas Eve and Easter, go with a classic cheapie and store them with shoe tree in a box with mothballs. No one will know the difference. My uncle Mike does the Hush Puppie and that is totally stylin'. He is the semi-Sunday, once in a while dresser so thats cool for him.

I do wish I never had to think this shoe thing up as it would be nice to show daily as a pro in shorts, T-shirt and flip-flops. Don't have that option. What I've written is the solution.

Next blog is working out. Its been put off for a while, but I have promised a few people. I still have yet to find anyone who works out the way I have implemented. It will be the base style of the majority of my workouts.

God Bless and Abundance to all who seek it and take action. Scott

Just Ask Alice

Michelle, Helping the Goal Out

http://www.fnchiropractic.com/





Approximately eight years ago, I had to re-up my goals. I have this prayer/goal journal and I realized that most of what I had in it was either outdated and my orientation shifted or I had accomplished what I set out to do. I have to admit that, as of now, I have not kept up with the journal. But I do have goals set in my head. The latest accomplishment has been to bank on this goofy housing market.


(By the way, we keep hearing about how bad things are today in the economy. One thing I don't understand is that things are soooo bad; but why are these abandoned houses off the market with a good buyer in such a short period of time if things are so awful? Corrections are being made by the people and this ain't being covered by your mass media.)

When I revamped my goal settings, I had to decide on personal items/things to procure/conquer and added a twist which I hadn't given much thought before. The twist was simple: Meet people. Meeting people can be intimidating for some. We live in a society today where many of us don't even know our neighbors. Tell you what, your representatives, athletes, movie stars, rockstars are all like you and me.

One guy I had on my list was Alice Cooper. I found out all this stuff about Alice when I moved to the valley. He is extremely charitable, likeable and full of energy. So I began my quest by frequenting his restaurant whenever I got the chance - lunches, dinners, before games. I asked about when he might show and came this close (fingers length) to calling him on his radio show. Just before I got to this breaking point, my girlfriend at the time, Michelle, told me about a book signing with Alice. I was there. I was the only guy dressed up for the occasion. Michelle joked about this and told about my "stalking" him and Alice laughed. He also let me know where his favorite seat is at Cooperstown. Cool.











The meeting people list is so easy. It takes a lot of watching stuff and taking things in to accomplish the goal. Just being observant. I already do this with my work so have some experience but it is so easy to just put your head under a rock as well. Experience can be generated by doing something as simple as going to the mall or sitting on a patio with expectancy in watching things happen. This doesn't cost much, is relaxing and therapeutic even. It brings to mind the Psalm or Proverb, "Be still and know that I am God". Not really sure when much of us are all that still anymore. Always something going on. Maybe missing something important, you know.

The first guy I met who I knew was different and I recorded his name in my journal was Mr. Potter. I was in Vegas at House of Blues in a forty minute line and had to pee. I got this idea and went up to the doorman, shook his hand and asked him, one muscle guy to another, if he would let me in when I got back from the restroom. He said we'll see.


I got back from depositing the golden stream and my friend, doorman Joe, politely refused my premature entrance. It was worth a shot.

I waited in line for about five minutes and saw this guy go up to the doorman. I kind of thought to myself that, "hey, he's doing the same thing I did". So I went to the front and the newbie is shelling out a few hundreds from a wad to the doorman. He was asking, "how much is it going to take?". I looked at Potter, then the doorman and back at Potter. "I'm with him." Mr. Potter looked at me and said he didn't know me. I put out my hand, introduced myself, we shook and I got his name. Now we know each other. About five hundreds later we were escorted past the rose colored velvet rope and down the stairs. If I ever work a door again, I'm doing it in Vegas. Way way way great!


My new friend, it turned out was extremely well known. Before I knew it, we had the red carpet treatment, women surrounding us and an open bar. When Potter went off somewhere in the club, I got to talk to his driver, Frank. Turned out that Mr. Potter was a billionaire and was in Vegas on a whim and a weekend just for kicks and to check on some property. Frank, the driver, was a pretty cool cat and went everywhere with Mr. Potter.


Near the end of our night together, I got to talk to Mr. Potter, one on one. I asked him how to do what he has done. He said he was often in the right place at the right time. That he had the good fortune of being lucky. He asked me some questions: city where I live, do I like my profession, and do I believe in debt making money. Well, he told me to get out of Tulsa should be one of my priorities. And then to learn managing of people and to not let debt scare me from making potential return of investment decisions. To act quickly and boldly. We decided to call it a night, I got Mr. Potter's number and made a new friend.

Getting out of Tulsa needed to be my greatest priority because the city/town lacks a population where chances are slim as far as overall opportunity to be in the right place at the right time to get to know the right people where good luck might rain. I took his advice and made sure to not forget. It took me about seven years to finally act on his advice. After I had built my house in Oklahoma, it was extremely difficult to consider leaving when my practice was in motion and there was nowhere else to go excepting starting again from scratch. But I finally did it. There are some regrets and I live with them. There are more plusses than minuses. Name that book: "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway" by Susan Jeffers.

That Vegas weekend I went with friends Fred and Kim. Fred's in restaurant management and Kim has real estate license but waits tables still. I kind of (well, not kind of) ditched them waiting in the forty minute line in order to have my all night meeting with Mr. Potter. I got to see Fred and Kim dance on the floor while I received VIP treatment. I didn't feel bad about ditching them because they just weren't watching.


The next night I ended up at Hard Rock and then at Caesar's. HR was okay and I saw some people I knew were celebs. I only knew this due to witnessing a couple posses. At Caesar's it was way cool. I saw a bunch of guys who looked fun and began chatting with them. It turned out that they were L.A. Dodgers out goofing around. I'm pretty sure it was during a short break in the season. Didn't know, didn't ask. The Dodgers are fun guys to hang out with. Funny thing I noticed in being around them was that they all had the expensive watch and nice/casual clothes but they were wary of sticking more than a nickel or quarter in a slot. When the spare change floating around in the pockets was gone, they were mostly about just hanging tight around the stage and that was actually pretty good to see. Just a bunch of guys like you and me cautious about their hard-earnings.



Wish I were more of a picture-taker sometimes. So it goes.

Patients and Patience and Anitas of the World

http://www.fnchiropractic.com


This is Tritia from my previous posting. She's actually blonde, but experimented for one time in her life. Tritia is blonde again. She's hot.


I have only two shirts with stuff on them. One was a gift and says San Diego with a little surf guy. The other one has my name and info on it. Quite a while ago I decided that no one should go around with all this crap written all over their stuff. My thinking is that these companies who make stuff with all their names and emblems all over your shirt should be paying you to wear their stuff. Or wild discounts should be made on such adornments. I do have a few shirts with small emblems, but that is my limit. I only have these because they fit well otherwise I would prefer no emblem but, rather, my monogram of choice. Preferably my initials. Its my shirt, my initials.



As of now I have treated thousands of people with chiropractic and delivered that many adjusments. There are some chiros out there who take offense when others may call our work "cracking". Often these types want to explain subluxation and specific chiropractic adjustment or possibly CMT. I really don't mind the term cracking and prefer to talk about joint out of place and nervous system interference and what this does to a person's being. It just seems nice and simple to me and more similar to something people understand better. Its easier to relate something as complex as the nervous system to the simplicity of a pinched hose and no water.

Out of all the people I've treated I often try to think of someone I just didn't like. Can't think of one. I care about my people. They are living, breathing, have ups and downs, crawl in and walk out. People like you. People like me. And everyone is truly unique. I strive to make sure that I keep my patients. This doesn't always happen. It can be very difficult to adequately convey to someone the importance in understanding that a weak link will always be a weak link and must be maintained in order to prevent further deterioration. Due to our symptom and pain related culture, usually many wait until the deterioration is too great. Then its patch patch patch. That job is tougher on you and its tougher on me. And it costs more. I offer my patients true value, caring hands and heart and fun atmosphere and relationship. In my opinion these cannot be beat in healthcare as we know it today.

Okay.
She drove up one day and parked outside my office. The car was an old, beat up, light blue Ford Tempo which looked like something might fall off the thing at any moment it was driven on the Tulsa streets. She stepped out of the vehicle and walked into my office. Anita. The sign above the office said "Back Out, Pop In" and had this pain girl/spine picture which looked eerily like my ex-wife. Anita liked the sign, I guess. She wore old ratty dress heels, a vintage seventies dress and smelled like she may actually hold a job at Goodwill as well as shop there. I think Kristen was the assistant then.

Anita 'splained that she drove over from another chiro office which refused her service on some kind of chump-like explanation like they were not taking new patients. I have yet to find an office which will not accept new patients and most are able to see them on the same day. I interviewed Anita. She was legitimately in need. She had Medicare. I don't do government problems like Medicare. Anita had no money. Her son was schizophrenic and autistic.

Anita's full time jobs were taking care of her mother, controlling her son and failing attempts at higher education. She was let go of her last job for some reason or another. I decided to treat the lady. Then I also knew that she required regular ongoing treatment after checking her out. Her body was just kind of all over. I also figured I may be her last ditch since she was already turned away from one place that I knew of. I began treatment after exam/x-ray: roller, stim, adjustment. Most people over 45 yoa you just have to x-ray or else you're pretty much possibly working blind without knowing extent of degeneration and previous elements left from past injury. No one discloses full history and no one remembers much of their physical history. Many do not even know that what they have done to themselves actually caused damage. I don't remember what I ate for breakfast.

To begin with Anita took off her heels. Kind of stinky. Well, not kind of. My work is done in open bay. Take your zapatos off, thats okay, I understand. When it got to be my turn and her arms came down there was hair. And more odiferous delight. The hair was interesting. I couldn't quite tell if she just lapsed at a shave or if she wasn't too hairy. I couldn't get a clear picture from the ankle hairs since that was an obvious lapsed shave. Adjustment was performed.

When I was treating Anita that first time, I was thinking that there had to be some way I could charge this person. I have a belief in no charity and people then place value in a job well done. No fare, I've found, yields minimum commitment and vague appreciation. There are exceptions, but few. One time in a spelling bee my brother, Tommy, misssssspelled the "C" word. Often I joke with patients that if they don't like co-pay, then I like chocolate chip cookies. Well, I didn't really want cookies from Anita. It may sound mean, but I sort of envisioned her as the possible cat-lady you read about in the paper who is ordered by city sanitation to give up her cats and clean the house or be condemned. I couldn't risk the cookie joke for fear that Anita would take it as literal statement and waste her time making me up a fresh batch slaving over something which would go uneaten.

After treatment I got an idear. Dem idears sometimes I has ta write 'em down quick-like ors else I might never ever 'member dem dere thangs. Us'ns 'n' we'ns wouldn't like dat.
My idea went like this. Give Anita homework. So I did. The homework went like this: You do your homework and come back in one week with it complete and we're friends. You don't do the homework then I yell at you and we're not friends until the next week when you complete the new homework. Anita's standing appointment was Wednesdays at 3pm. She kept her appointments and, the few she missed, I refused explanation. She did her homework.

Her chores were something of the following nature: I wrote down the chores on a blank sheet of paper and made a copy for myself which went into her file. The agreement was that she would complete the sheet in writing on what she did and return it on next visit with her signature. I would put the completed sheet in her file and toss my copy. The items needed to be done were constructed by myself. The ideas surrounded building up Anita and, hopefully, lift her shattered self-esteem. On return visits, Anita's spirits were generally rising and there became less poor me stuff. It was really pretty neat.

My demands included three to five items per assignment. An example of duties always included reading two Bible passages which I would pick out. Sometimes I did that open the book and wherever the finger points....and other times I was more specific on what I wanted her to read. I also always included a walk-a-day at least one time around the block. I would sometimes add that she had to smile during her entire exercise time. The other parts of assignment were mish-mash. Like I discovered that Anita enjoyed comedies and so I put in there to watch a comedy at least one time during the week. I would have her write down 25 times on a piece of paper something like "I am a great person and am made in righteousness" or "I have a great life and there is no one like me". Stuff like that. When I found out something new about Anita, it would be applied to her homework. My Anita list grew.

It was kind of funny because I began to look forward to her visits. The homework thing was fun. And I'm a smell/nose/olfactory conscious person. Of course, the second that she left my office I sprayed the place down and the assistant wiped down the tables. Oust is pretty cheap and a good product. I have fun spraying it, too. I often even spray down people's feet if it really is that bad. The last real bad one was this guy who I don't think ever washed his feet and he had an ankle problem I was treating. Spray 'em down. Guy got the name of smelly foot. My previous assistants thought this was kind of hysterical as they never saw their doctors being so forward in spraying down someone. Snickering assistants are fun. A lot of people know if their feet smell; its no mystery.

Okay. Anyway. Anita was a keeper. At the end of her first year, she made somewhere in the area of 20 visits. I had this file on her which was pushing go-for-broke in its girth weighted down by all this completed homework. I gave this some thought and, oh! 'Nother idear. Geez, where do these thar thangs come from? I hole-punched her year's work and placed it in date order in a binder. Labeled it "Anita's Chiropractic Homework". Gave it to her as a christmas present. I think she was pretty proud of that. Shoot, it may have been her only christmas gift that year. I don't really know and didn't ask.

The story is not over. My creative (genius) went on and Anita continued through two assistant changes. One of them, Jackie, worked for a bit and, on about the second Anita visit under Jackie's command, I was asked about the story on this one. Jackie got to know me through her care and a car crash. She came back to me when some hard times, a stalker husband, and divorce with three kids was occurring. I told Jackie that Anita probably had nowhere else to go and was just a broken spirit which required lifting. Anita began to get more attention in the office. And Jackie disappeared after a little bit. Turned out that the husband thing turned pretty bad and Jackie had to hide out and protect her kids. Pretty cool kids, by the way.

I got another assistant. Ads can be so expensive. Every once in a while one of Jackie's kids would come in for care and it was usually her son. He was a pretty tough and top-rated football player. Fast, too. Chiropractic improved his game and he would usually come in when I would have some of the Arena players in getting treated which he thought was pretty neat. I would get a report on the family and move on. Finally a long amount of time passed and Jackie came into the office to say hi. It may have been a year or so. She was always a kind of bright light. Always smiley and these beautiful big brown eyes. We got to sit down and talk and she was dating some guy and all this and that. Cool. And, you know what? Anita rolls into the parking area with her blue bomber Ford Tempo clattering away and she came lumbering through my office door. Jackie lights up and looks at me all amazed and stuff and she just had a good laugh. Time to work. Jackie knew the process well. Get the spray can handy, roller table, stim, adjust, Anita out the door, spray, spray, spray, clean the tables.

Q45 Love Affair

http://www.fnchiropractic.com/





http://www.bionicdoc.com/ http://www.85224chiro.com/








Distinctly I remember a few things my grandparents directly taught me. My grandma taught me about stocks and benefits of dividends. She also told me to learn Spanish and she taught me the Lord's Prayer in Finnish. She is fluent in Finn and Spanish. My grandpa taught me poker. The one other thing was a statement on dating from my grandpa. He said, "Scott, if she sleeps with you on the first date, dump her". My grandma is alive, grandpa is dead. I used to just really enjoy hanging around them. They were simple and easy and watching them work was inspiring.

Just figured out I can drop pictures on this thing.

A few years ago I purchased a Q45 on ebay. It was one of the best cars I've owned. The car started off in New Jersey as a one owner and I suspect it was a bargain because it was probably a headache. I don't really know as it was never a bad car for me. The Q was always good to me. My cousin, Tritia, now has it and I gave it to her in April of last year. She's angry at me over the car. I've also been told that my favorite uncle Mike is also angry over it, but this was said by my mom who often seems to be losing the cheese off her cracker. So, not sure about his anger as I would think he's sensible enough to know that I thought I was gifting my cousin with what I thought was a totally great vehicle although it was definitely used and a '91 car.

So here's the deal with this Infiniti. I flew out of Tulsa at 9am on a Saturdayand made it to Laguardia by 6pm EST. Long travel day. The planes were way cool. I love those that have around eleven seats across and you can't tell the beginning or end in the length from the inside. Cab drive to Bayonne was twelve miles and took almost an hour and cost a little less than a Ben Franklin. Just stepping into the cab at the airport started the tab at $50.

Dropped at the address of the Q45, I was tired from all day travel, but very excited.

The son of the owner took my cash after showing me the car and this thing was cool and looked as fast as I expected. I asked the guy if there was anything I should know about the vehicle since I intended on driving it about 1200 or so miles to Tulsa. He said it was all good and he then said that we needed to go out and make a receipt copy. I thought this a bit strange since I witnessed the all-in-one on his desktop outside the kitchen. Tell you what, this guy drove like a maniac in my car. He tore up all sorts of streets all over Bayonne and kept making excuses about different places he thought had copiers but ended up not. Finally after about one half hour and the clock nearing 9pm, he called it quits while jamming at 70 down a 25 street and decided he could go with a written copy and signature. I dropped him off at his house and proceeded to the Penn Turnpike/Thruway.

When I made this "miraculous" purchase I decided it was from God. Goofy maybe, but that's how it is. So I started the journey first by praying over my great buy and screaming fast green battleship. I prayed for safe journey and that this car may last a lifetime if I so needed. The trip from Jersey to Tulsa is beautiful. You pass by all these amazing things like the RCA dome, St. Louis arch, the green of Pennsylvania, all sorts of things. The drive is also long especially when you don't speed excepting the number of occasions when you just sort of "test" the pickup. You know, just to make sure that the wind doesn't hold you back and stuff when you know you need that extra speed in a pinch. Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if I got up to only about 120 mph a coupla times. It was for safety reasons that I averaged 95 most of the journey. Naturally.

I made it home within 24 (or less) hours. About every hour or so I made it to the garage to make sure the Q was still there. Opening and closing the garage door so I could see it in the light and check out how magnificent it looked against the outside and open background. Wow! A car finally bought outright with no payments and it had everything - right down to the amplified Bose which massaged your back when you turn it up and powered that bass. So cool. Amazing.

I made it to work the next Monday and the car started to cry. At lunch I took the car home to check out where the tears were coming from and then it really started to weep. Anti-freeze saturated the drive and the belt to waterpump was off. I put the thing back on and it just wouldn't stick. Paul came over and we were both perplexed - its just a belt, what the heck. We were able to drive the short 2 or 3 miles to Infiniti dealer and Paul struck a deal with the service guys he was familiar with.

It turned out that the water pump recently installed was an inch shorter than the pump which belongs on the vehicle. I have no idea how the belt ever stayed on as long as it did. I know I prayed over a safe journey and know my prayer was answered. I also figured out why that guy drove like a Nascar driver all over Bayonne, New Jersey. He was testing what he knew was wrong after learning of my loooong trip. Crazier things.

Got the pump fixed and everything was good as new. I continued to make sure and pray over my Q45. I (no kidding) probably prayed over it every time I drove and also thanked God for such a gift. I was influenced in prayer over such objects when I once heard Bob Yandian talk about how he believes in God for prime parking spots, longer wearing tires and better gas mileage.

About one week went by and I left office around dusk (This is November '05, by the way) and got in the beautiful car. Now, I have to tell you this - generally I'm not that stupid, sometimes goofy-stupid and calculated stupid, but not common sense stupid that often. So, yeah, I got in the car and the emergency brake light was on. I must have kicked it or something when I last got out of the seat. I pulled on a few levers and stuff and, after about seven pulls, finally turned off the blaring red light. My routine was to hop on the freeway and skate home the next few miles to 91st from 61st. I entered freeway and hit 70mph in flat time, got a lane over and....bam! Friggin' hood went straight up into the front shield. Geez, I couldn't believe it! I thought this only happened in comedy movies. I was close to laughing, but putting my head out the side window made my teeth chatter and I was in rush hour traffic and I had to act quickly. People slowed down, I pulled over and bent the hood down which put a couple little creases perpendicular to the hood and the latch did seem to still work and the aft edges of the thing were a little bent. Windshield was fine.

Umm...I decided to take sidestreets home and did around 25mph. All these things went through my head. Faulty latch? Any recalls? Bad hood? Driver error? I stuck on driver error. I went through all my actions and also thought about the pump which was just worked over. Between 81st and 91st and Mingo all of a sudden I remembered the levers I pulled in attempt to release E-brake. Ah, I suddenly hit 60 and made it home a minute later and looked for the latch release. Shoot, I must have pulled that thing about six times before I finally got what I was looking for. I figured I'm glad the Q is paid for and had a new adventure on my done list. I really don't advise anyone to intentionally do the hood flip adventure. Its kind of dangerous. But its all good.

When I gave away this car, it was a very sad trip to Vegas for me. Our farewell trip. I did it because I knew Tritia wanted something more dependable, the a/c was not all that great and I didn't want to deal with it and I was juggling three autos. Out of the three cars two had great a/c (in Arizona) and the J was another fabulous deal and the convertible is totally fun. I disclosed to Tritia all the work I had done and, to me, the car was basically new and all set up to run another 100,000 miles or more given the Infiniti reputation. The only thing I forgot to mention was my praying over the car and my constant petting of the vehicle and telling it how nice it is to me and how privileged I am to have been picked to be its owner. I attempted calls and emails to check up on my baby and friend and there was no response. From what I understand, Tritia had problem after problem from the start of her ownership. I feel badly about this but it was pretty much out of my hands. This made me a bit concerned also since my favorite, auntie Pam, said something to the effect that she would kill me if the car didn't work out. At least that's how I took her statement. And I wouldn't ever want to disappoint my auntie Pam.

Before the Q45's great send-off, I changed the oil, added its favorite oil additive (greased lightning), rotated the tires, checked all fluid levels, gave a thorough exterior washing and polish and painstakingly burned many of my favorite cd's for Tritia to listen to on her trip home from Vegas. I didn't drive it on the stay in LV and Elsie and I lost the car in the hotel garage. I looked for about twenty minutes and ended up at a blackjack table. Elsie kept looking and found the vehicle. She was pretty ticked to find me at the tables while she searched for almost two hours. I think she was more angry about my high-fiving the cute Thai lady next to me and I had to hear her say, "We go now". What can I say, I was winning and its Elsie's J-O-B to take care of me. We left and met up down the street with Tritia and her boyfriend and it was farewell. I just about cried watching Tritia's car drive off - without me.